Page 190 of Double or Nothing

I keep my attention on Dad, watching him as he takes a sip of his wine.

“Three paintings?” Mum asks.

“A triptych,” I say. “They belong together.”

“Are they recent?”

“Very.”

Oh, if only she knew how they were created. She’d do a lot more than clutch at her pearls.

“Camilla contacted you directly, did she?” Dad asks.

“Yes.”

“Interesting.”

No wonderful. No congratulations. No well done.

Just interesting.

“She said she’d received a private enquiry about my work,” I tell them. “She wants photographs, dimensions and provenance details. Everything. She’s considering all three pieces as one lot.”

Dad gives me a token smile.

“How very flattering.”

“Flattering?”

“The interest. She clearly knows who you are.”

My rage flames up in a heartbeat. Bastard, pissing on my parade. Pasting the Parker name over everything like it’s a worldwide entry pass.

“It’s more than flattering. This is the Stour Contemporary Auction.”

“I’m aware of the event, Alice.”

“Then you know it’s a serious opportunity.”

Dad lays his cutlery neatly across his plate and looks me dead in the eyes.

“Private interest can mean almost anything. Particularly when there’s already one exceptionally interested person involved.” He pauses. “And I most certainly know there has been one of those circling around recently.”

The meaning lands immediately.

“Ah, ok. You mean Jack’s responsible for all this? How lovely an assumption. Thanks, Dad.”

“Jack?” He raises his eyebrows. “Are you talking about Mr Reid? On first name terms now? Quite a jump from an unknown art enthusiast you’ve never met.”

He says Jack’s name as though it needs wiping from his tongue.

“He liked my paintings and we got talking, so what?”

“He threw sixty thousand pounds at a charity auction after barely looking at them.”

I don’t waver from his stare.

“He looked at them. He liked them. It was a grand gesture.”